


Practically Perfect

by missdibley



Series: The Red Nose Diaries [94]
Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Existing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, leading lady parts, the red nose diaries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 12:52:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15685815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdibley/pseuds/missdibley
Summary: Another short fic inspired by Tom's appearance in Rebel Park Productions' short filmLeading Lady Parts.





	Practically Perfect

“Fuck!”

Tom sat on the sofa, and tried not to look smug as Carmen glared at him from where she stood by the front door.

“Now, now, love.” He patted the spot next to him and grinned. “No need to be a sore loser.”

Rolling her eyes, Carmen kicked her shoes off, set down her bag, and crossed the living room to join him. But before she took a seat, she untucked her blouse from the waist of her skirt so she could reach under it to unclasp and remove her bra. She did this every night, much like every other bra-wearing person in the world when they arrived home after a long day at work. It was automatic, almost natural, and so she was startled a bit when she noticed Tom staring at her in wonderment.

His eyes followed her hands as they went to the back and then up into her sleeves to pull out one strap, then the other. Just as Carmen was about to retrieve it, he slipped his hand, long and cool and elegant, under the front of her shirt and pulled it out himself.

“Have you ever timed yourself doing that?” His eyes danced as he considered the scrap of cotton and spandex and lace in his hands. He made a loose fist so he could fit one of the cups over it.

“Nope.” Carmen flopped down next to him and put up her feet. She scowled at the television screen, where a screensaver of photographs played in silence.

“You should,” Tom said. “I think you could do it competitively.”

Carmen nodded. “So what are you making us watch this week?”

“Why do you insist on making this sound like a chore? It’s enrichment!” Tom insisted. “For Birty!”

“It’s only enrichment when _you_ pick the movie,” Carmen said. “Whenever I get home first to choose, you say we’re indulging in one of my guilty pleasures.”

“I don’t think _Xanadu_ is quite the children’s classic you think it is,” Tom said, arching an eyebrow at her.

“You and your eyebrow can stop judging me,” she muttered in reply. “Play the damn movie already.” Settling in against Tom’s side, Carmen let her head rest upon his shoulder while he grabbed the remote and started the film.

The overture began to play, soft and sweet, just as a matte painting of London at night came into view. “Walt Disney presents” appeared in bright yellow whimsically shaped letters, and when it did the music sounded brighter immediately.

“Is this _Bedknobs and Broomsticks_?” Carmen yawned. “I love that movie.”

 _“Mary Poppins!”_ Tom declared.

“Ugh!”

“What’s that ‘ugh’ for?” Tom sat back, peering down at Carmen as she curled up next to him. “You’ve never even seen this before.”

“Don’t care.”

“You’re just cross because I got to pick Birty’s movie this week.”

“Birty wants to see _Bedknobs and Broomsticks_ ,” Carmen muttered.

“We’ve already watched that,” Tom reminded her.

“You and I have, but it was, you know...” Carmen lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “ _Before_ Birty. He hasn’t seen it yet.”

“Well, we can watch the next time _you_ beat me home on a Friday.” Tom tried not to sound smug, but Carmen glared at him anyway. He turned his face back to the screen.

It had been Tom’s idea, screening their favorite movies from childhood for Birty _in utero_. Carmen protested whenever he got to pick the movie, but her objections only lasted as long as she was able to remain awake. Which was never for very long, as the end of the working week and her pregnancy had Carmen in a state of sleepiness almost as soon as she walked in the door. And so it was that on this particular evening she was fast asleep not long after Mary Poppins descended from a cloudy London sky. When he saw that Carmen was asleep, Tom sighed and soon enough he was napping alongside her.

Alas, it did not last long. For there came, from Carmen’s handbag dropped carelessly by the door, a buzzing sort of hum did little more than make a little noise and perhaps jostle the contents of her purse (wallet, earbuds, a few old receipts, Oyster card, a plastic baggie full of red lipsticks, a balled-up scarf for when the office was a little too cold). _Buzz. Buzz. Buzz._ Stop. _Buzz. Buzz. Buzz._

Tom shifted in sleep, lying back and settling while Carmen automatically snuggled into him even while she did not stir from repose.

_Buzz. Buzz. Buzz._

This time it was Tom’s phone, buzzing and almost rattling from where it lay on the coffee table. Close enough that he could hear it. His arm flew out, and his hand instantly found the phone.

_BUZZ._

“Hullo?” Tom coughed, but kept his eyes shut. “Yes?”

“Tom, why isn’t Carmen answering her phone?” The nasal voice of Annie, Carmen’s best friend, was sharp.

“I reckon it’s because she’s asleep.” Tom squinted down at Carmen, still curled up against him.

“Poor thing,” Annie said, consolingly. “She must be so tired.”

“Actually, we were both napping.”

“You’re getting married in a matter of weeks! What are you doing sleeping?”

“But we were both…” Tom began to say.

“Bah!” Annie snorted. “Bad enough you knock her up, now you’re not lifting a finger to help with the planning of your shotgun wedding…”

“That’s not true!” Tom sputtered. “I am helping.”

“I know,” Annie deadpanned. “I’m just fucking with you.”

Tom groaned. “Anne…”

“It was this, or I punch you in the dick when we arrive in a few weeks,” trilled Annie.

“Well,” mused Tom, “at least with the punch it would be over in a moment.”

“That’s the spirit!” Annie chuckled.

“Was there a reason you telephoned?” Tom asked.

‘Oh. Right!” Annie cleared her throat. “Well, I’ve got everything set up with the vendors here.”

“Great.” Tom looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t have my laptop on me, so could you remind…”

“Orders placed and confirmed with Portillo’s and Original Rainbow,” Annie said briskly. “They have TSA and airline guidelines on how to pack it with the dry ice so all I have to do is pick it up then check it with my luggage.”

“And you’re sure Harold’s couldn’t accommodate us?”

“I talked to them, and we decided it would be too soggy by the time it go to Cork,” Annie said, a trace of regret in her voice. “But they did bottle up their mild sauce for me, so I figured I could bring that and we could douse it on, well, everything else.”

“We’ll just have to make a special trip when we come over in October,” Tom murmured. “What about her mum?”

“Pilar…” Annie’s voice trailed off. “Is being Pilar.”

“What does that mean?”

“She’s still saying something about airfare.”

“But I told her I’d take care of it.” Tom frowned. “Or at least pay for an upgrade for her ticket.”

“Well, now she’s claiming she may have to work that weekend.”

“Are you _fucking_ kidding me?” It was out before Tom had a chance to think.

There was silence on Annie’s end of the line, then a cackle. “Oh Tom…”

“What?” Tom flushed, feeling unsure.

“You _sound_ just like Carmen when you say that.”

“Good,” said Tom.

“I’ll continue working on her, but you have to know she’s been saying what’s the point of her travelling to Ireland and all when she can just wait until you come for the con to do something that weekend.”

“The con where I’ll be working twelve hour days in a convention center the size of Hampstead Heath?”

“That still leaves you twelve hours to sit in a suburban McMansion being fawned over by literally three hundred Filipina aunties stuffing you full of roast pig and _lumpia_ and so many noodles…”

“That sounds pretty nice.”

“And then another twelve hours to go to a really long Mass in Tagalog while Pilar loudly sighs about how it’s _almost_ like a real church wedding.”

Tom groaned.

“It’s going to be worth it, Tom,” Annie whispered.

“You’re right, you’re right.” Tom took a deep breath. “I know you’re right.”

“Anyway, to finish up,” Annie said. “Jeremy said he’d call or email the day we arrive in Cork to help with transport to the castle.” She stifled a giggle. “An actual castle, Tom?”

“It’s more of a medieval mid-rise.”

“Should Heidi and Doron bring their own crowns, or will they be provided for them?”

“Ha ha, Annie,” Tom muttered. “You sound just like my sisters.”

“Excellent! That means I’ll be in excellent company when I bust your chops the entire weekend.”

_“Anne.”_

“Oh Tom,” replied Annie dreamily. “If I didn’t heckle you the whole weekend, what kind of a matron of honor would I be?”

“A _quiet_ one,” Tom stated. “A _nice_ one.”

“Bye, Tom!”

“Good afternoon, Annie.”

Tom ended the call, and just as he did Carmen made smacking noises with her lips as she slowly woke up.

“Baby?” She yawned. “Were you on the phone?”

Tom nodded. “Good nap, Button?”

Carmen turned her face up to look at him. Smiling, she reached up and brushed a few strands of hair out of his eyes. “Who was it?”

“Annie,” said Tom. “She just wanted to leave her flight information.”

“I’m sure she already emailed it to me.”

Tom began to run one hand up and down her back. “Do you want to call her back?”

Carmen shook her head. “Nah.”

Tom looked up at the television, where _Mary Poppins_ continued to play. “Should I restart the movie?”

“Only if you want to.” Carmen shrugged. “So are we all set?”

“For the wedding?” When Carmen nodded, Tom smiled. “Of course. Your mum and the Solomons arrive Thursday morning. Thursday night we all have supper  at Ben and Sophie’s with mum and Sarah and Emma and everybody else.”

“Friday morning we go to the registry office and get married.”

“What about Friday afternoon?” Tom blinked. “Mum thought the kiddos might want to go to the zoo.”

“Sure.” Carmen giggled. “Or we can get an early start on our wedding night.”

“I think perhaps the children would prefer the zoo,” Tom said soberly. “But is there anything else?”

“For the weekend?” Carmen bit her lip. “Nah. It’s simple. Easy. Low key. Besides.” She yawned, then snuggled back into Tom. “It’s not like there was much time for you to do much more than that.”

“No, there wasn’t,” Tom lied.

“There’s always New Year’s Eve.” Carmen’s eyes fluttered shot. “We’ll do something then.”

“Yes.” Tom smiled to himself, and kissed the top of Carmen’s head. “We’ll wait until then.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so in case it wasn't obvious (and if it wasn't, I apologize), Tom is planning a surprise wedding for Carmen.


End file.
